Missing Piece
by Lif61
Summary: Castiel feels rejected by Dean after he tells him he can't stay at the bunker. Hurt and struggling with his new life, Cas contemplates ending it all. Takes places during season 9. TRIGGER WARNING: Self-harm, near-suicide. Genre: Hurt/Comfort, but without the comfort.


Being human was _hard_. There were so many things that Castiel had to think about that had barely crossed his mind before. There was eating, drinking plenty of water, going to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, getting enough sleep, showering, and just figuring out how to do all of those things that seemed so simple to humans. Everything put together took up so much time. It was frustrating. Still, there were worse things about being human.

He'd been happy when Dean had decided that Cas could stay at the bunker with him, but he wasn't sure what had changed because then it felt like Dean had practically kicked him to the curb, leaving him to fend for himself. It felt like a rejection of some sort, even though they weren't officially together; Cas didn't even know what they were. He just knew that his feelings for Dean were different than the ones he had for Sam.

Being away from Dean as an angel hadn't been as trying as it was now. As an angel he'd been attuned to Dean. He'd always been able to hear and feel his prayers, even the informal ones. Most of the time Dean hadn't even been aware of the informal prayers, and Cas didn't feel like they were something Dean would feel comfortable talking about, so he kept the knowledge of them to himself. Now, as a human, he couldn't feel those prayers. Without that he felt like a part of himself was missing.

The pain of that kept him awake with worry and longing. By the time his alarm went off on his phone, he'd already been up half the night. Cas let out a weary groan as he rolled over in bed and silenced the alarm. He knew he should start getting ready for work, but he couldn't seem to drag himself out of bed. Rather, he stared at Dean's name in the contacts on his phone. Maybe he should call him.

This was a debate that Cas had with himself every morning, and it always ended with the same outcome, with him sadly turning his phone off and then going to take a shower. Each day the battle with himself took up more and more of his time. In fact, he'd almost been late for work the day before because of it. He didn't want to run into that issue again, but he found himself just staring at Dean's name.

He missed him. Missed the peaceful way he'd smile at him, the corners of his brilliant green eyes crinkling, missed his deep voice, missed his jokes, missed his scent, missed being able to _feel_ his existence.

Castiel had been able to tell the difference between the types of Dean's informal prayers. Most of them he'd felt almost constantly when he wasn't with him, and it was him longing for Cas to be by his side. Sometimes though Dean's prayers were of a more physical nature. Castiel didn't mind. It was just part of who Dean was.

Now he was without that, lonely and empty. Worst of all, he didn't feel like Dean yearned for his presence. He mustn't if he hadn't wanted him at the bunker. And to top it off, Dean hadn't even called or sent him a text. Maybe all Dean had really seen in him before was that he was an angel, and now, as a human, he was no longer interesting, no longer worth his thoughts or time.

He felt the hot pinpricks of tears at the corners of his eyes, and Dean's name blurred in his vision. He turned his phone off and let it drop unceremoniously onto the bedside table where it landed with a _thunk_. The bed creaked as he rolled onto his back, and then tears were sliding down his face. The sensation of them rolling down his cheeks just made him start sobbing because crying was such a _human_ thing. Cas absolutely _hated_ being human. He hated it with every fiber of his being.

His back ached from the lumpy mattress, his limbs were sore from lack of sleep, his throat was dry from forgetting to drink enough water, and it was like there was a massive hole in his chest that grew larger day after day. He was utterly lost and alone. There was so much to learn and to do in order to stay alive, and he felt like he was drowning in his new life, unable to stay afloat or get a breath of air.

Today he was more overwhelmed than ever. What was the point in continuing onward? There was nothing for him but pain and misery and that horrible missing piece of himself.

Cas got out of bed and wiped the tears from his eyes, feeling determined. He trudged into the bathroom and turned on the light, which flickered before deciding that it wouldn't burn out just yet. Cas stared at his reflection in the mirror, and then, he punched it. Burning pain exploded in his hand, and it drove him onward. It would all be over soon. He just had to do this one last thing.

With shuddering breaths he leaned down and picked up the largest piece of glass from the floor that he could find. He examined it, making sure it was sharp enough, and then he raised it to his throat. He was trembling as he stood there.

He was ready to do it.

But no, he wasn't.

Now he was.

No, not yet.

 _Just do it, Cas._

 _No. I can't._

 _I have to._

 _NO._

An anguished scream left him as he threw the piece of glass against the wall, and then he collapsed to the floor, his head in his hands. His shoulders shook as he sobbed. Warm blood seeped over his right hand and over his wrist, beginning to drip onto his leg. Right before he had been about to do it, Dean's smiling face had appeared to him, and that's what had stopped him. He had to keep going because even though he could no longer feel Dean, he had to have hope that he'd see him again. And maybe it wasn't even hope. Maybe it was a desperate wish. But it was all he had. And for now, that had to be enough.


End file.
